


Exhaustion

by MirrorandImage



Category: RWBY
Genre: Drunk Qrow Branwen, Exhaustion, Gen, trying to stay awake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25944964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorandImage/pseuds/MirrorandImage
Summary: [Complete] Ozpin doesn't really bother distinguishing between himself and Oz anymore. Except for one thing: Oz is always tired.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Ozpin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51





	Exhaustion

When Ozpin had inherited Oz all those years ago, there was a certain amount of transcendental and existential crisis involved. As he had learned, this happened with _every_ incarnation. Now, ten years into being Oz as well as Ozpin, Ozpin didn't really see the distinctions anymore. The memories of traveling kingdoms to help with a sweep of his staff before he'd met Salem were his memories now just as much as Oz's. The memories of children now long dead were just as much his. Ozpin could no longer say where he started and Oz ended. Nor did he even think about it anymore. He was just Ozpin and Oz at the same time and there was no longer a distinction.

There was one thing, however, that Ozpin knew wasn't true to himself and was still Oz.

Oz was tired all the time.

And Ozpin knew that wasn't him.

Growing up, Ozpin was very much a morning person. He liked watching the sun rise with a cup of cocoa, getting a head start on the day, crossing tasks off his to-do list swiftly and efficiently for an evening of well-deserved down-time.

He still enjoyed that.

But now it was infinitely harder.

Sleep was heavy and itself exhausting if dreams filtered through of past lives. Or sleep was incredibly light with the stress of his various jobs that prevented him from relaxing enough to even rest. Getting up was hard, and Ozpin would hit the snooze button now like he _never_ would before his inheritance.

Cocoa had turned to coffee out of necessity.

The weariness would cling to him through the day, dragging at his limbs, blocking his mind. It was Ozpin's clear ability to focus and determination to finish what he started that drove him through his days.

And no one ever noticed. Anyone he knew from before his inheritance was either dead or he no longer was in contact with for their safety.

So he would go through his day and preform his multiple careers (headmaster, spymaster, master huntsman, guide to the betterment of humanity, councilor, politician, etc...) and keep his focus and wit almost constantly active to address anything that came his way.

It made being headmaster the easiest way to keep him aware through the day, because nothing was as unpredictable as a bunch of young adults learning how to use explosives and blades.

By the time evenings came around, all Ozpin wanted to do was crawl into bed, even if the day hadn't been strenuous or tiring itself.

Being alive for eons upon eons did make one weary, after all. It was the only part of Ozpin's life now that he could _clearly_ label as Oz and not Ozpin.

... Or maybe he was keeping that one distinction, despite all these years, to remind himself that he was more than just another Oz in a long line.

"You know, Oz, you can relax once in a while."

Ozpin smiled, glancing to his side to view Qrow perched on his desk, ever informal and uncaring of protocol or etiquette. Another way that could keep Ozpin awake aware and focused.

"Alas, I have a monumental number of hats to be wearing," he replied lightly, leaning back in his chair nonetheless. "I am currently trying to wear that of councilor and headmaster at the same time." The mental exercise could combat the fatigue.

Qrow shrugged. "Work'll still be there when you get back to it."

"True," Ozpin said, leaning his head onto a hand. "But then there are the hats I need to wear after this. Tell me, how was Shade?"

"Shade is lacking in shade," Qrow quipped, pulling out his flask. "Hotter than a volcano, even _in_ the shade."

Ozpin chuckled. "And I take it shadowy work in Shade while lacking shade was difficult?"

Qrow snorted. "No word play, I'm not drunk enough for it."

But wordplay kept him awake, thinking of the next play and outwitting his fellow combatant. And he _had_ been starting to fade going over the reports. "Alas, I can provide no promises," he said. "If I don't wish to fall to the shadows of memories, I must become a warm memory to be revisited. Sharpened wit is as good a place to start as any."

"Tch," Qrow snorted again. "Plays on heat and Shade? You aren't even being subtle."

Ozpin hummed. "Perhaps I need to be more calefacient to remove your umbra of sourness."

Qrow rolled his eyes. "This is why I'm not drunk enough."

Ozpin's eyes danced. And for a moment, Oz's fatigue faded.

"Still, I'm sober enough to recognize a deflection." Qrow's wine colored eyes pinned him. "Relax, Oz. Take a break."

"I believe I am," Ozpin replied lightly. "Verbal sparring. But it seems you don't wish to lose."

Qrow shrugged. "If it's up against you, I'll always lose. I'm not as verbose."

"Ah, but you are improving." Ozpins eyes twinkled. "Verbose. If you'd said that when you were here..."

"Raven would ask who I was," Qrow replied. "She back yet?"

Ozpin's smile faded. "I regret to say no. It isn't yet time to worry, but..."

"You worry too much," Qrow snorted. "My sister will come back. We're made of stronger stuff than you city-types."

"Perhaps," Ozpin said, tracing a finger along his cheek. "But I do wonder at the cost of it."

Qrow rolled his eyes. "We did what we needed to for survival. We don't have to here. Simple as that."

"Perhaps," Ozpin said, the exhaustion starting to claw back at him. "I still despair the abuses the two of you suffered for just 'survival'. I don't believe such cruelties are necessary. Even for survival." He closed his eyes, memories flashing. "No, such practices should never be."

Like-minded souls did not guarantee a similar upbringing. Sometimes an incarnation was a king, sometimes an incarnation was a slave. Ozpin knew the heights and depths of humanity. While the Branwens hadn't shared much of what their life in their tribe was like, Ozpin had observed enough by now to have a very good idea. Qrow was healing from that, not that he was really aware of it. Raven was harder to get a read on given how guarded she was, but she was having more trouble adjusting to a healthier environment compared to what she knew. Summer and Tai both were incredibly patient and helpful in that regard.

"Don't go thoughtful on me now," Qrow grumbled, pulling out his flask again. "We're talking about you taking a break."

Ozpin offered a fleeting smile. "The to-do list doesn't disappear, unfortunately, and ever grows."

"Change of scenery can do loads to get you refocused."

Ozpin studied Qrow, letting that sentence work through his tiring brain. "What time is it?"

"Time for dinner," Qrow replied. "Go out to a bar. Get drunk for the night."

Ozpin's lips twitched. "And be so hungover in the morning as to not be able to do more work? I believe that's more your speed."

Qrow shrugged. "Then read a damn book. You academics like that sorta shit, right?"

"Hmm, alas, reading fiction doesn't really let me escape," Oz admitted tiredly, rubbing at his forehead. "Fantasy's and fairytales don't have an understanding of magic and I'm far too critical. Most other fictions relate to what I have far too much experience in. Mysteries and intrigue I live through in every incarnation, action or adventure is the everyday life of a hunter, drama is lost on me because our work _exceeds_ such drama, and comedy is so subjective and hard to write properly without a performance." He leaned back, tired again. "Reading used to be such a joy. Now I know too much."

"Damn, Oz," Qrow murmured. "You're just finding excuses now. Leave, grab a dinner. Give yourself some down time."

Downtime meant time to get tired. "Hmm, perhaps if I had a companion for dinner," he mused, rubbing at his eyes. "Someone to talk to and verbally spar with."

"Only if you pay," Qrow replied promptly.

"Hm?" Ozpin looked up, his fatigue fading.

Qrow had a funny grin on his face. "You need conversation or sparring, you're going to pay for a _good_ alcohol for me to get properly drunk. To deal with it."

A smile couldn't quite stop blossoming across Ozpin's face. "Well," he said lightly. "If you're offering. I have heard of a new restaurant opening up downtown." He stood, grabbing his cane.

"Knowing you, it's way too fancy and out of my usual price range."

"That's because you don't spend your money, you just save it."

"Tch. There's never anything good to spend money on."

* * *

Dinner, in a word, was delightful. Qrow kept Ozpin's mind engaged and focused and the usual exhaustion was forgotten about. Topics of conversation weren't of threatening grimm, political intrigue, or the eons of history. Topics were of children, students, the imagination of the young. Oz, after all, had _many_ stories of children throughout his lives.

"Damn," Qrow muttered, "why the hell does anyone have kids in the first place?" he asked after a tale of an intrepid four-year-old taking a dagger and using it on a sibling before realizing how dangerous it was.

"Because of the sheer joy they bring," Ozpin said softly, enjoying not a glass of wine, but a mug of _actual cocoa_! "To watch something so small and helpless learn and grow, to watch them display personality for the first time, to hear their first words and realize how much time has gone by, to take them to school and help them gain knowledge, to watch them surpass you."

Qrow was looking at him. "You gonna have kids someday?"

And Ozpin's smile broke a little, and he could only feel tired. "No." He took a breath and let out a long sigh. "I have also watched my children die in my arms." Staring with the first four he'd ever had. Too many times. "I have decided to be alone, as that is the best for everyone. Besides," he said with a lightness he didn't feel, "I have several hundred children every year to teach. I think that's enough."

After staring for a moment, Qrow took another gulp of his drink. Ozpin only smiled. "Perhaps you'll have children someday."

" _Ha_!" Qrow barked out. "Do you remember who you're talking to? The walking bad luck charm? I'd be a shit father."

Ozpin shrugged. "Perhaps an uncle then."

"Tch, like Raven would let anyone touch her."

"Either way, this has been a delight," Ozpin said, sipping more of his cocoa. "I hadn't realized how much I needed this."

"Shyeah," Qrow snorted, almost slurring, "you work so damn hard at shit no one ever knows about that you never realize you've earned a break."

"Perhaps," Ozpin acknowledged.

"Well, time for headmasters to get back, I'm sure," Qrow mumbled. "You've been around me long enough without an incident. Don't want to push yer luck."

Ozpin waved away the concern. "Your semblance will never affect me, not like that," he said, reflecting.

"Maybe, but it _will_ affect _me_."

"Merely because that's where you focus it," Ozpin replied sadly. "You make sure others around you are safe by making your luck only effect you."

And, right on cue, the glass in Qrow's hand broke, spilling his wine everywhere.

" _Shit._ "

Well, that did put an end to dinner.

* * *

Qrow was kind enough to walk him to his rooms atop Beacon's tower, and Ozpin noted that it was to his rooms and not his office and the pile of work he apparently wasn't being allowed to return to.

... That was probably for the best. He was getting tired again.

He couldn't afford to be. He needed to reinvigorate his mind, restore his focus and get _something_ off his list before going to bed properly.

"Do you want a drink?" he offered, opening his door.

"Sure that's a good idea?" Qrow asked, still sour at his own luck.

"Why not?"

Qrow shrugged. "Who am I to say no to more booze?"

"Who indeed?" Ozpin let him in and pulled out mugs instead of glasses for their less-breakable qualities. He looked at the clock, considered it, and decided that he likely wouldn't get any more work done. With a sigh, he poured himself a drink. Turning, he saw Qrow's smug smile.

"Ah," he put it all together. "You ensured I wouldn't get back to work today."

"Wasn't the plan, but it sure worked out that way," Qrow smiled, accepting the mug. "Dinner was absolutely not planned, but I ran the clock for that as long as I could."

"Very clever."

"I think you mean opportunistic."

"Ah, you are displaying your verbosity. It seems you are not yet drunk."

"I need to imbibe a lot more than what I have to be properly drunk to appreciate your thesaurus."

"And yet, you use the word 'imbibe'. Clearly you've a thesaurus of your own."

Qrow sighed dramatically as they sat. "Only because one needs a fucking _dictionary_ to understand you when you get on a roll."

Well, the alcohol was humming nicely in Ozpin's veins, the tiredness was crawling up his limbs. "Alas, an unintended side effect of living as long as I have is watching language grow and evolve." He switched pronunciations to how they were said over a millennium ago. " _A knight's night might reach heights and see lights too bright for worldly sight_."

Qrow choked on his drink. "What the hell language was that?"

"Ours, as it was pronounced ages long past." Ozpin repeated it with modern pronunciation.

"What, that first one, that's based on the _spelling_?"

"Why else are our words spelled so strangely? The rougher edges get sanded down over the years."

"I'll be damned."

Ozpin offered a faint hum, the exhaustion reaching deeper into him.

"You sure you're okay there, Oz?"

"Hnn," Ozpin sat back on the couch, everything feeling heavy. "Damn fatigue," he muttered.

"I've had more to drink than you and you're the one close to passing out." Qrow's voice held a smile, but Ozpin's eyes were shutting. "I think you're a lightweight."

That made Ozpin push back the exhaustion. "Have you ever met an elderly person?"

"Didn't have a lot of those in the tribe, Oz. You know that."

Ozpin forced his eyes open. "You should visit a nursing home some time. The elderly are often tired. Doctors talk about how the body is reaching its limits of function before it starts shutting down. While that's true, when one is alive long enough, when one sees family and friends die off before them, an old person tends to just get tired of the world."

"You're not that old, Oz."

"Hmm. Ozpin is very young. But Oz has been alive for a _very_ long time." The fatigue was weighing on him again. "Oz is always so tired..."

Ozpin was fairly certain that he fell asleep on the couch.

How very rude to Qrow.

* * *

Qrow stared at the headmaster, the warm, pleasant buzz of all his drinking gone in the ice cold bath of those last words, _Ozpin is very young._ _Oz is always so tired_. Who talked in the third person? Except it wasn't third person, it was himself talking about himself that wasn't himself... he was too drunk for this. Except he was stone sober now, wary of Oz doing or saying something that would be even scarier.

Was sacred even the right word? He wasn't scared _of_ Oz. After the years of service he never had anyone he believed in more. Even Raven. But now fear was crawling around deep in his guts as the headmaster tilted slightly on the couch, gravity pulling him down as he slept. No, he was scared _for_ Oz, as he started to realize even a small fraction of what it was like to be the headmaster.

Oz was always so collected, playful. When talking about the mission he was serious and considering. On the vary rare occasion he had seen him tired, like tonight, but it only just now dawned on him that he was other things, too. There was more than being a leader of a covert faction of Hunters that protected Remnant, there was a guy in there who experienced things no one could understand, and even seeing that one sliver of a moment: _Oz is always tired_ , was enough for Qrow to gape in horror.

There was a word for this: his mind couldn't supply it, he'd have to look it up later when the screen of his scroll wasn't swimming so bad, but there was definitely a word for someone talking in the third person of a person who was and wasn't there. What did he even do with that?

In that, at least, he cursed himself and got up, taking a moment to steady his balance and walking over to the professor. If the guy was tired, Qrow would make sure he rested.

He stood over the sleeping man. Oz had no right to look that goddamn pretty, but Qrow pulled his glasses off and pocketed them, shaking his shoulder slightly.

"Hey," he said. "Can you walk to bed or am I carrying you?"

No answer.

"... Damn lightweight."

Oz was heavier than Qrow expected, there wasn't an inch of fat on him, all his mass was corded, wiry muscle, and Qrow secretly reveled in having his hands over Oz so much as he negotiated the headmaster into his arms and half over a shoulder (curse the guy for being tall). Keeping his balance was a hell of a lot harder now, but he moved slowly to the bed(room) and stretched the professor out. Oz didn't even stir to shift in the blanket, just lay there, passed out where Qrow left him. Thinking, Qrow pulled off his shoes and socks, pulling the edge of the blanket on the far side of the bed and tossing it over the headmaster. The nightstand had a clock, green lights enumerating the time, and Qrow pulled it out.

If Oz was always tired, the least Qrow could do was let him sleep.

And... maybe the buzz wasn't completely worn off. Qrow had better get some sleep, too.

* * *

There were a few hazy moments.

Dreams.

Lives of long ago.

Nothing new.

But Ozpin finally woke up in his bed. He was hungry and thirsty, and still wanted to curl under the covers. Sighing, Ozpin got up and stumbled his way to his kitchen to get coffee going. Maybe he could get a little more sleep while the coffee percolated? Or at least center his thoughts enough to _focus_ and push away the usual fatigue.

It was on his way back to his room that he noticed one of the many clocks he had and noted the time.

He tried to say something as he picked up one of his timepieces and squinted at it, but his vocal chords refused to cooperate. Really? _Afternoon_? Why hadn't his alarm woken him? Ergh, and he'd had several meetings this morning...

No time to crawl back into bed then. Time for a shower.

"Good to see you up."

Still groggy, Ozpin turned and blinked at seeing Qrow lounging on his couch.

"Qrow?" he tried to ask around his dry and sleep-raspy vocal chords. He cleared his voice and tried again. "Qrow?"

"You had us worried for a moment there."

"Sorry?"

Ozpin stood straighter, his focus and will marshalling with observations.

"You've been asleep for over forty hours."

" _What_?" Ozpin blinked. "My alarm always wakes me..."

Qrow was looking away. "I may have unplugged it."

Standing straight, Ozpin took a moment to asses, letting his mind whirl with a delightful puzzle as he looked around. He finally noted that he was still in most of his clothes from when he came home, losing only his jacket and waistcoat and socks and accoutrements. Qrow seemed to have made himself comfortable, as a blanket and guest pillows had been brought out for his couch, where Qrow seemed to have been nesting. A glance back at his kitchen, always so pristine and clean, had empty bowls in the sink awaiting washing and foodstuffs on the counter.

It seemed that when he'd fallen asleep on the couch, Qrow had put him to bed.

"Unplugging my alarm?" he asked, utterly bemused. "Was that really necessary?"

Qrow scowled horribly. "You needed sleep."

"Any being on the planet, human, faunus, animal, or plant, needs some sort of sleep. Being sentient merely means that we can choose how much sleep we procure for ourselves. Granted, there are recommended hours for basic health and vitality, but we can set times for ourselves—"

" _Ozpin_!"

That actually made Ozpin stop. Qrow hadn't called him by his full name in _years_. "Very well, what have I missed that required you to unplug my alarm?"

Qrow let out a heavy sigh that was unlike him and rubbed his face with his hands. "Do you remember much after dinner?"

Ozpin smiled. "I remember realizing that you had run the clock as long as you could so that I wouldn't go back to work," he said lightly. "Very sneaky. You've taken to the shadowed nature of things quite well."

A twitch of a smile at the compliment. "What else?"

"A conversation on the evolution of language," Ozpin replied, thinking back. He gave a baleful look. "You seem to be under the assumption I'm a lightweight with alcohol."

Qrow snorted. "Given that you passed out on the couch after one drink, I think I'm right."

Ozpin gave an amused hum. "I'm afraid the alcohol wasn't enough to knock me out," he said lightly. The lingering fatigue and exhaustion of Oz was why he'd fallen asleep so quickly. The drink had merely helped it along.

Qrow clearly looked disbelieving. "We can talk about your low tolerance later. The point is you passed out. I was drunk and I had to haul your dead ass to bed."

"You weren't intoxicated," Ozpin replied with a twinkle. "As I recall, you were still being incredibly verbose, despite how much booze was imbibed."

"Don't pull out your thesaurus _now_ ," Qrow moaned. "You passed out. I hauled you to bed and figured unplugging your alarm would help. I wasn't expecting you to _not wake up_."

"Ah," Ozpin let that sink into his mind, alert and analyzing. "I can see how that would have been a problem."

Qrow was glaring at him. "You know I had to call in the campus nurse? Nothing I did was waking you up. Couldn't figure it out. You didn't have any sort of the physical signs of exhaustion, but nothing could wake you up. Loud noises, shaking, cold water, _nothing_."

Ozpin let out a tired sound. "Alas, it never is physical exhaustion."

"Yeah, that's the part that makes no sense." Qrow still glared. "You disassociated. Called yourself by two different names. I didn't dare mention that to the nurse. Not even Port knew what to make of it. I thought he was in on all this."

Sitting down, Ozpin looked around and found _Long Memory_ where he'd left it (apparently) two days ago and grasped it, taking the familiar weight and letting it comfort him. "You'll find most of the staff don't believe in fairy tales," he replied. "The staff know that I run Beacon, that I work with the other schools, and that we do our best to help humanity stay safe and happy to prevent grimm attacks. Those who know of my incarnations are _very_ few in number."

Qrow's face was a mix of pride that he knew and scowling that Ozpin was deflecting. He clearly settled on scowling. "Still doesn't answer the question," he growled.

Ozpin offered a bemused smile. "I haven't heard a question yet."

"Oh, _now_ you want be direct," Qrow grumbled.

Closing his eyes, Ozpin allowed himself a moment to wallow in self-pity before speaking. "I apologize," he said softly, still fingering _Long Memory_ , letting it ground him. "I have been Oz for over ten years now. It's... not an easy thing to explain, the reincarnation. It's an extremely difficult process for everyone involved. When I die, my soul will find another like-minded soul and we'll begin to merge. I don't know which parts of me are Ozpin and Oz anymore. I remember all the eons and all the incarnations and all the spouses and all the children and all the battles. Sometimes, a soul won't let me speak and our merger is grudging, other times a soul might be grateful to retreat from the world. Sometimes the soul is a child, sometimes the soul is an adult. All are _me_."

"You've already explained this."

"But there are nuances," Ozpin replied. "I remember growing up how early I'd wake to start the day, how I would work and work and work, and then unwind for the evening with a feeling of accomplishment. But there's a me inside that would sleep in and wait till the last minute to get tasks accomplished. I know that I love cocoa, that I've always wanted to teach. But the smaller pieces... there is so much that is tangled up to make me. I am a merged soul. I am both Ozpin and Oz. Yet I can point to that fatigue, the exhaustion, the _eons_ of living, and I _know_ that it comes from _Oz_ and not Ozpin."

"Bullshit," Qrow interrupted. "No one's ever seen you that tired."

Ozpin raised a brow. "No one is ever around when I am," he replied. "I _have_ been managing it for over a decade. Alarm clocks, coffee, a great deal of work to keep my mind occupied and focused. Since it's not a _physical_ exhaustion, a well-focused mind can push through it."

Qrow scoffed. "So that's why you overwork yourself so much? You keep doing all that shit, the exhaustion will _get_ physical."

Ozpin chuckled. "Again, _ten years_ experience. I know where all my limits are."

"And last night?"

Shrugging, Ozpin brushed it aside. "A sadly normal occurrence. I return home, maybe have an hour or two to unwind before I collapse in bed. My alarm goes off in the morning and I proceed as usual."

"That's not right, Oz."

Very true, but Oz hadn't really had much in the way of choices for a long, _long_ time. The timer for the coffee went off, and Ozpin allowed himself a small sigh. "Might we continue this conversation after I've showered and changed?"

Qrow gave a heavy, lidded stare. "Will you make it through the shower?"

A burst of laughter slipped out before Ozpin could clamp down on it. "Yes. I can wash up and change. Please, keep my coffee warm."

In the shower, Ozpin let his mind work around his to-do list, what needed rescheduling, what could be done, how to reset his circadian rhythm so that he didn't sleep through his alarm tomorrow, his usual routine to get his focus set for the day. And of course, how to handle that Qrow now knew about this. Really, Ozpin must have been _very_ tired indeed to not realize that inviting Qrow in for a drink would be a bad idea.

His hair was still damp when he emerged from his room, forgoing formality and wearing just trousers and a comfortable turtleneck. "Qrow? Have you seen my glasses?"

"Check your dresser."

"Ah, that's why I couldn't find them..." Ah, much better. Really, he needed to look at corrective surgery for his eyesight. Squinting around tended to give him a headache. He padded barefoot back into the main area to find holding up a mug of coffee.

"Hmmm," Ozpin smiled, reaching for the mug. "Thank you."

Qrow pulled it away. "Who said it was for you?"

Ozpin offered a flat pout. "Very true. I'd imagine since you've appeared to make yourself at home, that you've helped yourself to my dishes as well. Without cleaning them," he said lightly, raising a brow.

Ah, Qrow blushed at that. How bashfully sweet.

Ozpin opened one of his cabinets to pull out another mug. _Coffee..._

Qrow, it seemed, didn't like the casualness of all this. "So, that's it? You just, what, _manage_ this?"

Ozpin turned, a brow raised. "I have been for a decade. I fail to see any need for change."

" _Oz_ ," Qrow growled.

Ozpin raised a hand, asking for quiet. "Qrow, I understand how you feel. It must be a shock to realize that being as I am has drawbacks that I don't always enjoy discussing. It must have been stressing to see me fall asleep and unable to awaken. For that, I am sorry." He sighed. "Given your upbringing, you know that weaknesses aren't a thing to be discussed lightly. I am not all powerful or all knowing. I don't claim to be or _want_ to be. But please, once the shock of this has worn off, understand that I _have_ been dealing with this for some time. I will awaken to danger, I will awaken to an alarm, I will not be a burden to any of you."

"It's not _about_ you being—" Qrow cut himself off and stood, energy radiating off of him. "Fuck it, I'm leaving." And he stormed out, slamming his mug to the counter and disappeared.

Ozpin sighed.

Well, he still had a lot to do. And he was certain that more had been added to his to-do list. And the first thing added to that list was a way to try and make things up to Qrow.

* * *

Qrow spent a good chunk of time just wandering around Vale to cool off. That Oz just quietly accepted things that were _unacceptable_. And at times like this, it pissed Qrow off to unbelievable measures.

He may have also spent an hour or two in a dive having some of the most disgusting drinks that could be ordered, but it distracted him from thinking too deeply about what the hell kind of _absolute shit life_ Ozpin must live to think that _daily exhaustion_ was the best way to deal with _daily exhaustion_ and that _no one had noticed_ or even the fact that Ozpin had _yet again_ displayed _unwavering trust_ in such a bad luck disaster as to share details of a weakness.

Of course, the result was that Qrow _may have_ been kinda tipsy when he got back home.

"There you are! We were getting worried!" Summer was all her usual sunshine, Tai behind her and at the stove of Qrow's little-used apartment cooking something that would likely be delicious if he wasn't hammered.

"He's drunk again," Tai observed, setting aside a spatula that Qrow was fairly certain he didn't actually own.

"Not drunk enough, damn it," Qrow growled. "Why are you here?"

"Because they were worried about you," said his sister, stepping out of his room. "I told them not to be."

Blessed, _blessed_ distraction. "Raven! You're back!" He hugged her and if making his way to her involved more stumbling than he would under normal circumstances, well... "Everything went well?"

"Was there any doubt?" she said arching an eyebrow. Then she wrinkled her nose. "Tch. You smell like a distillery."

"You bet your ass I do!" Qrow cheered, "Drinks for everyone!" he tottered over to his fridge to pull out a bottle of something. "Raven's back! Ha-ha!"

"He's not saying anything till he's sober," Summer decided. "So let's have a drink and get him to bed."

Qrow stumbled over to Tai, throwing an arm around him. "Hear that?" he asked loudly. "Summer wants a four-way!"

Tai shuddered. "I _refuse_."

"Spoilsport..."

Raven slapped him on the back of the head and Qrow stumbled forward, toppling to the ground. "You're not making any sense and you're going to clean out that drunken brain with _bleach_ and _then_ I'm going to hang you by the _toenails_ for _starters_ of the _punishments._ "

" _Fuuuck_ ," Qrow grumbled, sour instantly. Raven was threatening tribe punishments. His sister manhandled him up and threw him into his room before slamming the door with orders to _sleep it off_!

Well. This had all started with sleeping.

" _Fuck_!" he shouted, and collapsed into bed.

* * *

The next morning, hangover to end all hangovers in _full_ effect, Raven showed up, let in all that _damn_ sunlight, and hung him by his ankles.

" _Raven_ ," he growled, blood rushing to his head being the _worst_ with the hangover. "What the _fuck_?"

"The hangover over yet?" she deadpanned.

Qrow hissed, realized that he was getting tribe punishment, and kept his mouth closed. Raven was far and away gentler than anyone from the tribe. She didn't use a whip or blades. She didn't hit him at all, just let the upside-down head rush abuse his hangover and left him like that for an hour. No additions, just hanging upside down. Beacon really had softened them.

Afterward he was with it, ready to swear off drinking, and after a good shower presentable. At some point while showering, Summer and Tai had come over again and Qrow took one glance at Raven to properly apologize.

"Sorry about last night."

"We were worried," Summer said softly, giving him some coffee. "You went to report to Ozpin and didn't come back for two days and when we did find you, you were completely sloshed."

Qrow winced. Yeah, he could see how that would be shit. "Sorry," he repeated. He turned to Raven. "Have you reported to Oz yet?"

"I couldn't when I first came back. That was unusual."

Qrow's fault, no doubt.

"I did this morning."

"He seem okay?"

Everyone blinked. "Yes," Raven replied, eyes narrowing. "He was his usual damnably amused self and offered for me to teach stealth to some of the students. I refused of course."

"Of course."

"Qrow?" Tai asked. "What happened?"

Qrow sat heavily on his couch and rubbed his face. Time to explain what had happened. He went through it all, fielding questions as he talked.

"You took him to dinner?"

"You got _drunk_ in front of him?"

"He's a _lightweight_?"

"What do you mean 'not wake up'?"

" _Forty hours_?"

"No wonder I couldn't meet him yesterday."

"Look," Qrow growled, "Oz is working himself to the bone to avoid exhaustion. Except that's going to _make_ him exhausted. We're some of the few people who know about all this reincarnation shit, we need to _do_ something about it."

Raven was scowling. "He didn't tell us. He _withheld_ information from us."

Qrow gave a baleful glare. "Who willingly shares weaknesses, Raven? He had every right to not mention it. Or did I go around advertising my semblance when we arrived here?"

"Tch."

"This isn't good," Tai acknowledged, "but... aren't we kinda the bottom of the pole here? We're the muscle and Ozpin's the boss. Who are we to say or do anything?"

"Tai, he's going to hurt himself if he keeps doing this," Qrow was frustrated. Why didn't they _see_ what he saw?

"Serves him right for not sharing information with us," Raven muttered. "We're his best team, aren't we? Aren't we _entitled_ to more information?"

"Still suspicious," Tai said.

"Still alive," Raven countered.

"Still unhappy," Tai finished, the old argument stale.

"Raven, we went over this," Qrow retorted. "Or have you talked about your weaknesses to anyone lately?"

"I don't have any."

Qrow glared at her. Raven didn't relent.

Tai, ever the peacemaker, stood between them. "You two," he said, "don't need another sibling scuffle." He turned to Raven. "We're the game pieces. We knew that once he explained just how old he is. He's going to see a bigger picture than we do spanning centuries. He's our _boss_. He doesn't have to say anything if he doesn't want to. Last I checked, he answers questions when we ask."

"We don't know enough to ask!"

Tai ignored her and turned the Qrow. "Like I just said. _Boss_. And you said so yourself. He's been managing this for years. He has never let on about this because he knows how to manage this. He doesn't let it affect his work. If he's found a method that works, and he hasn't been able to improve it for a _decade_ , the four of us sure as shit can't do anything."

"I can't _believe_ this! After everything Oz has done for us, we're just going to sit here and watch him hurt himself?"

"Qrow," Summer said softly, speaking finally for the first time. "Let it be."

" _Summer_!"

She held up a hand. "Ozpin has made it clear that he handles it and that he has it under control. We don't interfere with that." Then she smiled, her silver eyes twinkling. "That just means we can look things up on our own time. Don't worry. We won't let it stand, but Tai's right. There's no point in doing anything until we have something concrete. And Raven has a point, it would have been nice to know some of these smaller things. So if Ozpin doesn't see fit to inform us of things like exhaustion," she beamed, "we don't have to let him know that we'll try to help."

Qrow smiled. "Okay. We can work with that."

Qrow nodded. He _promised_ , to himself and no one else, that he would do whatever he could to make things easier for Ozpin. For the first man who looked at Qrow and saw him as worthwhile, for the one who saw his semblance as a positive. Qrow would do anything for Oz. And this was a good start.

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaand this is the last one-shot we wrote after finishing Defining a Life. This one was Mirror's idea compared to the other three being Image's. Not much to say, it's short and to the point: Oz is self-sacrificing, Qrow is absolutely not okay with it. Honestly, there could be a hundred permutations of this idea, but we like how it came out.


End file.
